


Checks and Balances

by Nemainofthewater



Series: Timeship Week 2019 [4]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angel!Rip, Demon!Gideon, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Gen, Good Omens AU, Raising a baby, RipFic, Timeship Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 07:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20336119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemainofthewater/pseuds/Nemainofthewater
Summary: What to do with a stolen Antichrist?





	Checks and Balances

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IncendiaGlacies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncendiaGlacies/gifts).

> Written for Timeship Week 2019-Day 4: Trope Day. My chosen trope is accidental baby acquisition. 
> 
> Also, dedicated to IncendiaGlacies! Happy birthday!

“How do you suggest that we pull this off?” Rip asked, head tilted back in exhausted exasperation- and Gideon couldn’t help but note that the pose showed off the elegant arch of his neck-and pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off the inevitable headache. Strictly speaking angels didn’t get headaches, but Gideon was proud to say that although angels in general didn’t, this angel did, and the headache’s name was Gideon.

Gideon took her time answering, waiting until her angel had _felt_her stare, and then said: “Easy enough. The other demons think that the Antichrist has been safely deposited with the Smoak family, and it’s not like they check up on us. If we just…educate the young Antichrist, influence her so that she’s neither Good or Bad…”

“I don’t like it,” Rip said, “If it’s against the Great Plan…”

“You can’t tell me that your side is for the End of the World,” Gideon said, “You’d be…thwarting me. Because whether you’re with me or not, angel, I’m planning on raising this child. So the question is, do you want to be a part of her life? Be that moderating influence? Or will the Antichrist grow up on a steady diet of chocolate and cake?”

Rip shuddered lightly. An act: they both knew how much he liked his sweets. Not that Gideon was complaining, she loved watching him eat them, covertly as though he was doing something wrong, but unable to stop himself from moaning and, if she was really lucky, licking his fingers afterward in order to make sure he hadn’t missed any of the sugary goodness.

“I thought that your ultimate goal was to avert the Apocalypse?” he said, “Not usher it in early.”

“That’s why I need you to thwart my wiles,” she said, grinning at him.

“And your answer to averting the Apocalypse is really just playing happy families? Do you really think that eleven years of, of…birthday parties and trips to the park to feed the ducks can really overcome her fundamental nature?”

His voice was sceptical, but beneath it Gideon could hear the naked hope. Because Rip had always loved the humans, even as an uptight soldier fresh from Heaven. Six thousand years had done nothing but cement that love. She would be jealous if she wasn’t in exactly the same boat.

“Why not?” Gideon asked, draping herself over Rip, and completely coincidently, honest, trapping him on the sofa. He sighed and absent-mindedly started petting her hair, “It’s not like it hasn’t worked out for me so far.”

The sides of Rip’s mouth twitched, and Gideon smiled to herself.

“I rather thought that I was the one reforming you, not the other way ‘round,” he said.

“We corrupted each other, angel,” Gideon said, stretching out with a contented sigh and making a discontented huff when Rip momentarily paused his ministrations.

“Ah. Well. Yes. I rather suppose he did,” Rip said, voice low and warm with affection born of millennia of truly Knowing each other. As if the last few days, their furious arguments, had never happened. Or rather, acknowledging that they had happened and, in the end…Rip had chosen her. And humanity. Had come through for her when she needed him.

She reached up to draw him down for a kiss-

-when the Antichrist made her displeasure at the world known and started wailing. Rip sighed and pulled away, carefully extracting himself from Gideon’s hold.

“We probably ought to see what she wants,” he said, “No doubt she’s hungry, or needs changing or something of the like.”

He stood and made his way over to the basket that was holding the Antichrist, the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of the World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan and Lord of Darkness, and currently very grumpy. Lifting her out gently, he cradled her in his arms and started to coo at her gently, rocking her back and forth until she quieted.

“You’re good at that,” Gideon said.

“I’ve, er. I’ve had practice,” Rip replied, and Gideon didn’t push any further. She knew what had happened to the various children he had protected over the years.

“She needs a name,” Gideon offered up instead.

Rip stared down at the child, clearly falling more and more in love every moment that he stared at her.

“How about Sara?” he offered, voice quiet and haunted, “I knew a Sara once. Such a beautiful soul.”

“Sara,” Gideon said, standing and moving to stare down at the baby, “You know, I think she looks like a Sara.”

The newly christened Sara gazed up at them with innocent eyes. And then, with a small hiccup, proceeded to vomit all over Rip.

#

“What are you doing?” Rip hissed. Gideon blinked back at him: “I’m…feeding the baby?” she replied, feeling rather put out. She hadn’t even added the hot chocolate powder to the bottle like she had wanted to: she was being good!

“You miracled the bottle!”

“Of course I did,” Gideon said, “We don’t exactly have any baby formula here. In any case, on the best for our little antichrist: this is 100% fresh breast milk. I stole it from one of those breast milk ice cream places: they’ll never miss it.”

Rip shuddered: “Please tell me those were not your doing,” he said, “The whole concept gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Of course not!” she said, “You know me better than that, Rip. Would I spil good ice cream like that?”

“Of course not dear, but I did have to check,” he said, before sighing and continuing: “Although we have rather strayed from the point.”

“And what point is that?” she asked, jiggling Sara slightly until she burped.

“The point being that we’re trying to keep a low profile! I don’t know about you, Gideon, but I have to account for every miracle that I perform to Head Office! And if they see a list that comprises things such as _miracling baby’s milk_for the next eleven years then they might start to get slightly suspicious!”

Gideon and Sara both blinked at him. Rip was panting heavily (despite angels not needing to breath) and looked rather ruffled. Not that he didn’t usually, but this was different. Frowning, Gideon shoved Sara at Rip, which immediately clutched her to his chest and started rocking her and guided him toward the sofa.

“Listen angel,” she said, “We’ve had the antichrist for less than 24 hours. I’m pretty sure that everyone on my side is too busy patting themselves on the back and probably blowing up the monastery to even think about checking up on me. Bloody 14thcentury minds all of them…”

“That doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t take all necessary precautions!” Rip hissed back, clutching Sara to his chest like he was afraid the forces of Hell would burst in at any minute and snatch her away. Gideon’s lips twitched and she felt a pang of fondness rise within her. Her angel really was adorable, all rumbled hair and wide eyes and rising protective instincts.

“We should probably limit the amount of ethereal and occult powers around her anyway,” she conceded, “If we want her to grow up human.”

Slowly, Rip’s grip on the baby relaxed and Gideon, unable to help herself, reached out to smooth the worried lines at his eyes.

“There, there,” she said, giving into temptation and pressing a kiss to his lips, “Don’t worry so much. We’re not going to get caught. No one cares enough about us.”

Rip sighed, the tension slowly leaving his body.

“I don’t want anything to go wrong,” he said quietly, “Gideon…if my side find out what I’m doing I can claim that I’m thwarting you. I might get a slap on the wrist and a reassignment but that’s the extent of it. If you’re side finds out what you’ve done… They’ll kill you. And I couldn’t bear that.”

“And you won’t have to,” Gideon said, “Because nothing is going to go wrong. I promise.”

Rip snorted and pulled her toward the sofa until she was lying next to him, head pillowed on his lap. She acquiesced but gave Sara a dubious look. She knew that babies spent most of their time excreting, from one end or the other, and she didn’t want to get on the wrong side of her, as it were.

Then Rip had adjusted his grip on Sara so that she was cradled against his chest with only one hand, leaving the other free to gently card through Gideon’s hair. Mmm. He knew that she loved it when he did that.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then-

“You know I would come for you,” Rip said, breaking the sleepy silence.

“What?” Gideon asked, peering up at him, eyes lidden.

“If you were taken away from me. If either of you were taken away from me,” he said, jiggling the now softly sleeping Sara, “I would get you back. I would storm the gates of Hell themselves to find you.”

“I know you would,” Gideon murmured back, “And I would smuggle you out of Heaven. Infiltrate the Pearly Gates, sneak past Saint Peter and bring you home.”

“Home,” Rip said, hand pausing in his ministrations before a small, discontented sound from Gideon made him continue, “Yes. I suppose we are. Home.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am on Tumblr as [Nemainofthewater ](https://nemainofthewater.tumblr.com)


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